


you gotta leave before you get left

by wolfwithpanthereyes



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Gen, The Hotdaga, i'm really out here being one of the first to write hotdaga fanfic folks, there's no pre-saved tags for the Hotdaga on ao3 i'm flying blind here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-20 01:43:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14885246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfwithpanthereyes/pseuds/wolfwithpanthereyes
Summary: Everyone knows if you hail the witches at the witching hour, they steal you away.





	you gotta leave before you get left

“Why can’t you be more like your sister?” 

Every day. 

“You did such a wonderful job, Rebecca!”

Every damn day.

“Aren’t you proud of your sister?”

Every damn day it’s just more of the same.

“Why can’t you be more like her?”

Her being Rebecca, pretty and bubbly and the apple of their parents’ eyes. Always ready with a smile and a hug, first on the dancefloor and last to leave after insisting on helping clean up after the night. 

Rebecca was perfect.

Pamela was not. 

So she leaves. 

It wasn’t a difficult decision. She went to sleep with the rest of them - Rebecca in her soft pink pyjamas, Pamela an oversized t-shirt patterned with faded glow-in-the-dark stars. She lay, waiting for Rebecca’s soft breathing to ease into gentle snoring - if only Rebecca’s admirers could see her now, perhaps they wouldn’t admire her quite so much - and only when the glowing clock between their beds read 2:30am did Pamela slip from her bed. 

She slipped her shirt off, changing into warmer clothes she had prepared earlier. There would be a chill in the air where she planned to go - the air. That was her plan, to take to the air. 

Everyone knows if you hail the witches at the witching hour, they steal you away. 

Pamela was counting on it.

She toed her shoes on - black boots, thick and study, the ones she had bought last month despite her mother’s wishes. Shrugged her coat on, slung her prepared rucksack over her shoulders. Tied her hair back with a piece of ribbon. Prepared to say goodbye.

Perhaps she should leave something nice. Something warm and loving for her sister, her twin, her constant companion. Something Rebecca could cling onto until they met again.

The note she left, pinned to Rebecca’s pillowcase, reads simply _I will shoot your future husband_.

Pam hails the witches at the witching hour. 

She never looks back.


End file.
